Tear me apart - translation
by anangelface
Summary: This is my translation from the story tear me apart, originally written by houseghost. It is so heartbreaking that I wanted to renew it to all the english speaking people. Content based on the marriage law, hurt and angst, love, romance and a very, very nasty Professor Snape. Please review!
1. Sewer rat

Hi, I found this wunderful heartbreaking story from 'houseghost' and found it worthy to be translated. So here it is, my translation. Please be kind to me, because I am not a native english. Nothing of the characters or the world belongs to me.

Tear me apart Chapter 1

Unexpected or sewer rat

Hermione opened her eyes and blinked sleepily. The holidays were standing ready to end and her luggage for the trip to Hogwarts was packed. She was looking forward to see the castle, the library and their best friends again. The world seemed to be in order. If there was not this noise, it would be an absolute.

"Hermione," cried her mother.

"Yes!"

"Hermione," now for the third time.

"Yes, I'll be right there," she yelled back.

Reluctantly she opened the blanket aside and slipped into her slippers. Loud thumping on the stairs was heard. Oh, mother approaching. Hermione quickly pulled over her robe and hurried to the door. Just in time, because even now her mother held her head angrily through the gap.

"Down there is a bed," she told applied. Hermione yawned.

"A bed?"

Her mother nodded with a stern look. "A certain Professor Dumbledore has sent it, standing on the letter that has just brought an owl."

"Oh."

Her mother impatiently drumming her fingernails against the door frame. "However," she cried out sharply. "It is in the front yard."

That's the limit.

Hermione bit her lip. "Give me a minute, Mom." However, when she made no effort to move away from the door, Hermione had no choice than to follow her down. The front door was open. In fact, a bed. With a large purple bow around it. Apart from the neighbors, who dislocated their necks and their father, who was leaning with his arms crossed on the front door, there was fortunately nothing wrong with this beautiful morning.

"Do you know what that is?" Mr. Granger asked, irritated. Hermione hesitated, but did not dare to say anything. "A marriage bed."

She swallowed. "This must be a hoax. Certainly even ... " She paused. A familiar sound approached purposefully her house. There was no doubt, an owl. Hermione was getting restless. Why in heaven's name she got just now even a letter? She had hardly set foot outside the door set, since the owl was their cargo sailing to the ground and flew quickly away in a different direction. "Thank you!", Hermione roared behind. Then she bent down and picked up the mail. Even the envelope did not bode well that the letter was from the Ministry of Magic. The next thing Hermione tackled, was Dumbledore's message that belonged to the bed. But his lines were not at all what she had expected. It all had to be a terribly big mistake! She sat on her bed and digested the shock that this morning had given to her, as from some distance she heard a loud roar that came steadily closer. She closed her eyes and counted to three, in order to calm down. But the roar grew louder. She ran to the window and rubbed her eyes as she saw a flying motorcycle in the sky. As fast as she could, she ran down the stairs and opened the front door. The bike had just landed on the lawn, right next to the ghostly bed that was still waiting to find a new destination.

"Hagrid", called Hermione and ran toward the giant, hairy man.

"Hermione", he held out his arms and caught her joyfully.

"What are you doing here?"

He grinned. "I will pick you up. Dumbledore himself has given me the job."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her spirits sank to the basement. "Dumbledore," she repeated, almost, gnashing her teeth.

He nodded. "Great man, Dumbledore."

Hermione was speechless. She did not know what she wanted to get rid of first, her anger, or her disappointment. "That may be," she said finally. "But we can not ..."

"He'll know what he's doing," Hagrid said confidently. "You should put the bed in your room, you should really."

"Hagrid," she blurted. "Why?"

He scratched his head, his good mood was suddenly gone, as he saw the look on her face. "Trust Dumbledore simply, you'll see."

"Do you know what all this is?", Hermione penetrated further. "I wake up and find this monster on the front lawn, then comes an owl, delivers a letter for me, in that stands, I do ..." she swallowed, "... have to be married."

Hagrid took a deep breath. "Let's fly to Dumbledore, he'll know what's going on."

Hermione was close to tears. "That can only be a terrible mistake," she whimpered. Hagrid took her in his arms. A big tear rolled down his cheek. The Grangers were standing at the window and looked helplessly out into the garden, to her daughter, the giant, the strange motorcycle and the bed.

* * *

In the principal's office ruled thick air. Snape stood with his arms crossed in front of Dumbledore's desk and looked at him with sparkling eyes. "This time you have outdone yourselve," he remarked sarcastically. "Your demand will transport me directly to hell."

"Severus ..." continued Dumbledore.

"No," roared Snape. "She's a child, Albus." He looked as if he feels sick. A deep furrow was between his brows.

"She's not a child anymore. And she is much smarter than all the other students together. Determined you will find some common ground. "

"She is intolerable," Snape commented with a hard lead.

"She's not. You just need to know how to deal with her. "He sighed hard." Severus, please. "

"How long must I hold out my head still for your brilliant ideas, Headmaster?" Snape asked, emphasizing each word.

Much to Dumbledores dismay. "I'm sure you'll find a way ..."

He had not finished speaking when the fire flared up and McGonagall came out with Hermione Granger in tow.

"Albus," called the teacher as soon as she had stepped out of the ashes. Hermione followed her every step. She looked like she would burst into tears at any moment.

Snape rolled his eyes. "That was a private conversation, Minerva," he muttered out with clenched jaws.

"That does not matter," she snapped back. "Would someone please explain what's going on?" Her eyes were wide with excitement.

"Albus," Snape said, turning with flashing eyes to his head. "Would you be so kind?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "The Ministry has taken measures to protect female Muggle-born students." He paused and let sink the comments made. Snape was grinding his jaw. "A new law provides that such persons should be transferred into the custody of a magician that is capable, to protect them from dangers."

McGonagall opened her mouth. "This ... this is outrageous," she exclaimed in a trembling voice. Hermione stood speechless beside her, chewing on her lip.

Dumbledore looked over his glasses at the group. "I'm so sorry, we have no choice but to yield to this arrangement."

"What?", Hermione shrieked. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. McGonagall put an arm protectively around her shoulder. "What kind of danger?"

"Death Eaters, Voldemort's followers."

Snape was staring straight ahead. "Then I can not be the choice because of my past," he said stiffly.

Dumbledore turned his gaze on him. "Severus, I do not think that this is now up for debate. You have shown me faithfully for many years, that will not even have escaped the Ministry ... "

"Moment", Hermione turned on himself before he had uttered. "What would that mean exactly, they do not come into question?"

Snape coughed. "Tell it to her, or should I do it, Headmaster?" His gaze was razor sharp.

Dumbledore looked at him sternly. "There is no reason to be abusive, Severus." Then he turned with tempered look at Hermione. "We have to face it, Miss Granger. There are not many suitable candidates within."

She swallowed. A sense of foreboding spread through her head as she slipped her eyes across the room and between the present persons back and forth. Quite angry.

Minerva looked like she would fall over at any moment. "Albus ..." she cried desperately. "That's not possible!"

"I fear it," he admitted quietly. "Severus is as chaste and innocent as a lamb ..." A low rumble was heard from Snape's throat. "He would certainly be the most worthy candidate," continued Dumbledore.

Hermione had stopped breathing. That. Is. Not. Possible.

"What", exclaimed McGonagall. "And why should we give Miss Granger in his care?"

"Thank you, Minerva," Snape remarked snooty, he obviously felt robbed of his honor.

Dumbledore fiddled with his glasses, all staring at him, waiting for an answer. Hermione got a strange complexion. "Do we have a choice?", said the headmaster.

"Indeed! What about one of the students?", suggested McGonagall.

Snape smirked smugly.

Dumbledore shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid that will not be enough to meet the requirements, Minerva."

"What are the requirements for as yet, Albus?"

"Candidates must be at least of age, it is the want of the ministry. In addition, a service of the Ministry or other device is recommended, but at least a completed training to ensure the material provision of protection to the commanded person."

"That too," groaned McGonagall. "In order that the students are not well-challenged."

Hermione shook her head and looked between Snape and Dumbledore. The headmaster finally seemed to notice her presence. "Miss Granger," he said formally. "Please do not forget to breathe. This meeting is solely for your welfare."

Hermione was relieved that he had finally noticed her and gasped.

Snape cleared his throat. "After my well no one asks?" He noted. His eyebrows slid upwards.

Hermione suddenly drove around to him. "You", she shouted with a wagging finger. "... it ... you dare still consider this insolence?"

He lifted the corner of his mouth, baring his teeth. "Ten points from Griffindor, Miss Granger."

Her jaw dropped down. "WHAT?"

"Considering that you have a disrespectful behavior to a teacher."

"How dare you?" Now she was really moving. "You think but not in all seriousness, that I fall purely on this game?"

He looked at her intently. She felt the huge flame that blazed behind his black eyes. A look of power and strength. "That's not what I intended, Miss Granger," he said clearly.

"No? What are you then to do? "

"Quiet please," Dumbledore intervened. "We need to preserve the nerves."

Minerva looked as if she had yielded to fate. "If the ministry wants it, we have no choice," she murmured thoughtfully.

Hermione swallowed hard and crossed her arms in protest.

Snape turned his head disapprovingly and stared out of the window.

"I've thought it over thoroughly, my friends", continued Dumbledore.

But Hermione did not want to give up. Not before she knew exactly what was behind it. "Professor, what does it all mean?", She asked meekly. "What are the consequences and facts that should I expect?"

"A stringent law, a mutual commitment ..."

"What?" Hermione cried desperately and threw herself against Professor McGonagall.

"We have to make an arrangement that ensures that you will, sooner or later, be under the protection of a capable and powerful sorcerer."

"Thank you, Albus," Snape muttered with a sharp voice. He looked more and more bored with this conversation.

"Very well. Let us lose no time, I am the captain of this ship, "said Dumbledore proud and let his gaze drive to Hermione. "Miss Granger, it would be an honor to lead you to the altar. "

"No," she cried, surprised. "Never!"

"I'm afraid but unfortunately we need a vow that proves the seriousness of this situation."

She was taken aback. "What exactly is the arrangement about?" She asked cautiously. "Is there some time and space limitation?"

"Indeed, Miss Granger." Hermione clenched her hands into fists. Her impatience grew with every second. "You will marry Professor Snape and he will guarantee protection for you."

Snape growled like a wild animal, and Hermione could feel the tiny hairs on her neck stood up. Oh no! This animal nature was to be her husband?

"I tell you to take other premises, the dungeon rooms are a bit uncomfortable for two people ..."

"What do you mean, Professor?" Hermione whispered. Suddenly she felt very weak.

"Well, the contract provides that both of you apply common premises, not more and not less."

She swallowed. "I need to live in an apartment with Professor Snape?"

Snape cleared his throat. "If I may say something ... I prefer to stay in the dungeons, to comply with the principles of a Slytherin."

Old sewer rat!

"Well, Severus. I think that can come to terms ... then we would have resolved that." A relieved smile was on his lips.

Hermione looked around the room speechless. A little later she was married. With the sewer rat.


	2. The dungeons

As always I just do this for entertainment.

So enjoy and please be nice to me and my english.

Chapter 2  
The dungeon

It was not what Hermione had expected when she walked into the dungeon rooms that would represent their future refuge. It was worse.

Professor Snape had accompanied her without even appreciate her with a look, let alone say a word to her. The heavy door swung toward one side and he pushed her roughly in his private chambers. In front of her eyes was one room that was connected to one side with his office and on the other with a bathroom. It was dark, cold and uncomfortable like in a torture chamber, at least for Hermione's relationships, who was clearly accustomed to something else. At least there were in addition to the well-stocked bookshelves a bed, and on the other side an armchair, a table and a sofa. The worst fears to have to share with him the sleeping camp was by that avoided.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I suppose you sleep on the sofa?" She asked cautiously.

Not careful enough.

He closed the door behind her, stretching his long, thin fingers and finally folded his arms, everything calmly, without a word.  
The calm before the storm.

"Miss Granger," he began, his eyes bored deep into hers.

Hermione swallowed. "I just thought ..."

"Do not interrupt me," he growled, whereupon she was staring at him wide-eyed. "Do you really think you could just burst into my life, take my private quarters to complete and then", he took a deep breath, "even explain my bed to your property?"

She bit her lip, wondering what options were available.

"I thought it," he replied with a sarcastic grin. Without going to take another note of her, he turned around, ready to go, ready to leave her alone in this terrible unfriendly space.

"Wait, Professor Snape," said Hermione. She had taken all her courage together. On his hesitant behavior, she could see that it had hit him unexpectedly.

Taken aback he threw his black cape to the side and focused her with his gaze. A long drawn-out "yes", came out from between his jaws, so tightly pressed together.

"I was not ready," she said defiantly.

His mouth curled into missfavor. "What else?", he asked impatiently.

"You know as well as I do that I did not choose this situation," she said frankly. "Believe me, I would take every other conceivable way to go, if I had the choice. I had not. There may be people who are used to pain ... and believe me, that's exactly what this package means to me ... I for one do not belong there." She took a breath and let her eyes alternately wander across the room and back to him. "We're both in the same boat, Professor. No, this is far from enough ... It's much worse! We're stuck here, like on a fucking deserted island from which there is no escape. Would it be asking too much of you to ask you about acting like an honorable man and give me - your wife – the bed?"

Silence. He gave her a long stare with the deep furrow between his eyebrows, until he finally answered. "No." Again, he turned around, as if he could not wait to get away as quickly as possible.

Hermione sighed and plopped down heavily with her body on the bed. He stopped when he heard the noise. "You must let me have personally dragged down from here," she said petulantly, as she lay flat on her back and held her arms crossed over the chest.

He whirled around, his cloak ballooned and with a few steps he stood before her, his eyes a reflection of the anger inside him. His chest rose and fell. "Miss Granger," he spat angrily, his black hair was a mess. Hermione hardly dared to breathe, so busy she was to withstand his mad look. "You are insufferable," he pursued and wrung his hands.

Hermione sighed loudly. "If you knew ..."

He cocked his head, his eyebrows drawn together closely and teeth bared. "Ten points deduction ..." He got no further.

"From Griffindor. Yes, I know." She rolled her eyes. "This will not work, professor."

"For you still Professor Snape," he snapped back. His pale face was still hidden by several long strands, but Hermione could feel that he hesitated before he took the next step.

"Why are you doing this?", she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do I do what?"

"You humiliate me, Professor." It sounded so simple, that it was almost contemptuous.

He snorted and straightened up. "Miss Granger." She rolled her eyes, and he did his best to ignore it for this time. "What you want to hear? That I'm sorry? I pity you? No, definitely not, because that is not the case. I have consented to this arrangement on Professor Dumbledore's explicit request. As you have already realized, we are in a hopeless situation, and here I am, in the service of Hogwarts, I go to do my duty." So it sounded. Pure sense of duty.

Hermione sighed. "Very well," she noted. "We should make the best of it, Professor."

"Of course," he replied sarcastically.

"What do I get if I leave the bed?"

He looked surprised, but only for an instant. "Hogsmeade."

Hermione shivered as she felt the immense power that was in his deep voice. She was not sure if she had understood correctly. "Excuse me?"

"I allow you to visit every other Saturday Hogsmeade, no matter what time of the year."

Her jaw dropped down. "But ... are you saying that I may need your permission?"

He raised his eyebrows, as he always did. "Recently."

Hermione was about to lose control. "That's impossible. My parents ... "

A thin, smug smile began to spread across his face. "Your parents will be surprised that their valued daughter is now married."

"You do not dare!"

"I fear it."

"How can you live with the way how you are? This is blackmail!"

A deep growl escaped him. "Welcome to my world, Miss Granger. Or should I rather say now Mrs. Snape?" He spoke every word precisely and clearly to intensify the absurd effect of it.

"You don't dare!"

"You do it again, miss. Do not tell me what I have to do or not do. You are now married and this requires some understanding of the lives of adults. But wait ... you're still not up! "

Hermione felt the blood rise in her head. She jumped up and rushed towards him. He was so surprised by this attack that he finally realized what she was doing when it was already too late. With fists flying she beat on his chest. He stumbled back a step and quickly grabbed her hands. His fingers closed around her wrists as vices.

"Let me go!", Hermione yelled. She did not care, that she behaved like a stubborn little child. It was all too much for her. She screamed her fury and despair out of herself.

He held her hands still firmly, his chest rose and fell with tension until she finally stopped to resist him. Speechless, he stared at her.

"Is that all you can, Professor? I expected more from you", she sobbed, not daring to look at him.

After a while his breathing calmed. "Hogsmeade, Miss Granger," he said in a low, infinitely sinister voice.

Hermione nodded.

"I will now take a small meal to me, if you'll excuse me ..."

"What?" She finally looked up at his face. "You'll leave me back here just now?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's entirely up to you, Miss Granger. I would recommend, however, wait for the first wave before you take the plunge. The storm will be laid out to safety soon."

She stared at him with open mouth.  
Oh no! The Griffindors. And the Slytherins. And of course everyone else.

"I'll send a house elf, then you can order something to eat. Good day, Miss Granger. "

With that, he turned his back on her and finally left the room with a flowing cloak.

It was the middle of the night, when Hermione woke up exhausted and shivering. She was - contrary to the agreement – fallen asleep on the bed and realized that it was more comfortable than she had suspected. From Snape there was no trace.

To hell with him! Sewer rat!

She crawled under the blanket and fell asleep again.

At three in the morning, she heard a faint sound that made her awake. Instinctively, she reached for her wand and brought the candles in the room to light. Confused, she looked at the black shadowy figure of her professor, who sat not far from the door in the armchair and looked at her.

"Professor," she murmured, surprised, but there was no answer. "What are you doing at this time?"

"Night watch, Miss Granger." He laughed scornfully.

Only now Hermione smelled the alcohol that had spread in the air. The picture in front of her was a single tragedy. Shivering she pulled her knees to her body and put her arms around them.

"You lie in my bed," he said.

Hermione nodded. "It was cold."

"Ah, I see."

His long, black-clad legs were stretched far from him and still stuck in the shoes, he seemed to wear day in, day out. His cloak was on the arm of the chair. He seemed completely changed at that moment, Hermione had never seen him in such a condition before. It was disturbing.

"Can I get you something, Professor?", she asked cautiously. "Some water maybe ..."

He grinned slyly. "Nope." His voice faltered and was amused.

Hermione chewed on her lip. She did not quite know what to do. "What was it like up there?", she asked after a while, after all she has been here all day. The curiosity in her had won and for a moment she forgot how angry she was with him.

"Hmmm, let me think ... yeah, right!" He spoke unusually slowly, the alcohol showed its effect. "I think, apart from Minerva, which had already digested the initial shock and of course Albus - my dear Albus, who brought me into this situation - everyone was quite amused by the idea that the vampire from the dungeons has taken the lovely maid to his bride." His voice was razor sharp, except for the slower speed, he was back to Professor Snape.

"How do you know that?"

"How do I know what?" His eyes flashed like black stars. He even managed to focus on her face.

"Nothing." Hermione bit her tongue before she could speak, what she would have regretted later.

"The one with the maid?" He asked pointedly.

Oh. No.

"Miss Granger, you've never been told by anyone that you look monstrous like a virgin? I mean, you behave and dress like a maid. So it's obvious ... "

"WHAT?"

"Well, it's not my job to tell you that ...", he paused briefly and thought, "maybe ... yes. Given the circumstances, as a husband, of course ..." His head fell off to the side, Hermione held her breath and listened eagerly to his noisy breathing.

Suddenly he jerked his upper body forward and put his head up. Distraught, he sought her with his eyes. "That's the nice with both of us," he muttered, difficult to understand. "We have at least one thing in common." Already he sank back into himself and began to snore.

Oh. My. God. He is a virgin!

It was obvious what he had said, even in this state. Hermione was shocked. She had never really thought about Severus Snape's sex life, but she was sure that she would never again be able to displace it. Somehow she felt a spark of compassion for him. It was sad that a man of his age ... how old was he again? ... Had never had sex. On the other hand, it was admirable that he was so loyal to his principles.

Suddenly, she was curious. She got up quietly and tiptoed to his chair, still armed with her wand. Carefully, she crouched down and raised his hand to fish the tangled black hair from his face. It felt strange to touch him, at least he was until not too long ago solely her professor. And no one would really dare to touch him.

The fact that she was now married to him, let her take courage. She saw his face in a completely different light than ever before. Every wrinkle, which he had earned during his life as a teacher, the pale skin, entirely received by the darkness of the dungeons ...

He breathed audibly loud and lounged in the chair. Hermione held her breath until he had come to rest. With her wand she brought a pillow and pushed it gently under his chin. At that moment he opened his eyes and suddenly grabbed her hand. Hermione's heart seemed to stop as she felt his eyes on her. Her fingers were wet, she realized that he would not let go. She swallowed hard and looked at him frightened.

"Miss Granger," he replied clearly. "Go to bed."

Hermione nodded and wanted to pull her hand out of his grasp. In vain. His eyes penetrated to deep into her, her heart pounding in her throat.

"Do not touch me ever again", she heard him say with ice-cold voice.


	3. Confusion

Chapter 3  
Confusion

"What," cried Hermione and straightened with a targeted move her wand at him. Her hand trembled, but it did not matter.

Snape raised his eyebrow until the top. "Take that thing away," he muttered.

"No!"

"Miss Granger," he said wearily, without further efforts to deal with her. No expression on his face was visible. No anger, no irascible voice. Nothing.

It brought her to the brink of insanity. "How can you stay so calm?"

"I drank, if you missed it. Your hand trembles. And you are not the first student, who aimed a wand at me."

She hesitated a moment and grabbed her weapon firmly. "Maybe I'm not the first, but I'm the first one to which you are married, Professor."

"Yes, exactly. I almost forgot ... " He sounded amused. At least until he attempted to rise from his chair. "Ouch!" He plopped back heavily.

Hermione grinned at him smugly. "It gets away!"

"All right."

"You could have accepted my help, as I gave it to you. Now it's too late. Good night." She turned on her heel, and was just about to delete the candles with her wand when she felt a hand on her neck.

He suddenly stood behind her and before she knew what was happening, he had put his finger on the wrist, with whom she held her wand. He squeezed hard enough to make her unable to move without hurting her. "Miss Granger," he whispered huskily in her ear.

Hermione was trembling. She could smell his drunken breath and had difficulty bringing her wild pulse under control. She knew that he had her in his power, that she was unable to do anything against him. He was strong and fast.

Slowly and carefully his fingertips slid along her neck. She closed her eyes and waited. Was she afraid? She could not say it. It was a strange thing to feel his fingers on her skin and be exposed to him so helpless. But fear?

He swallowed loudly and removed his head from her face. With a jerk, he turned her around, so she had to look at him. Seconds passed before he desisted from her.

"Bring it over, Miss Granger," he gave her access to her next step. "I will not defend myself. I promise."

His eyes were serious. He let his hands hang loosely at his hips and looked at her. Was it longing for redemption, which was in his view? Again, she could not say it, could not think straight. Her breathing was racing, her hands were shaking and she had to struggle to keep the wand at all.

"I hate you," she said simply, and in a broken voice.

He took a breath and grinned. "Bravo. That's a start."

Hermione turned away and let the wand fall to the ground. Exhausted, she crawled to the bed and rolled under the covers. Her thoughts went crazy, she did not understand what had happened.

The candlelight flickered in the drafty dungeon rooms, she turned from one side to the other and could not go back to sleep, so upset she was. She was hardly surprised that he seemed to be in the same state, for he still sat in his chair and stared at her, she could feel his eyes literally. "I have questions," she said after an eternity.

"I have them too."

She shrugged. "Really? All right. I'll begin."

"This is no game, Miss Granger," he growled warningly.

He clearly had gritted his teeth, but Hermione ignored him. "Why didn't you turned Dumbledore's request down?"

"I am a teacher, Miss Granger. It's one of my duties to protect students."

"Ha." Really? "I would have thought not so. I mean," she paused, "you have never made a particularly sheltered impression to me. It was rather the opposite."

"Indeed," he said, she could feel him pulling at his eyebrows and sat up.

He offered her still the same sad sight. "You could have given Dumbledore a denial," she continued.

He laughed. "How well do you know Professor Albus Dumbledore, called headmaster, Miss Granger?" Hermione swallowed. It was the way he said Miss Granger, that let her shiver. "I thought it to me."

"And yet. You are not his dog that he can boss around at will."

"And you know that as well because ... you are Miss Granger."

"Well, I thought ..."

"You thought. What were you thinking?" Every word slipped out of his silky throat.

"Nothing," she answered simply.

He sighed deeply. His image would have resembled that of a wreck if he had not been dressed so exactly. "Why do you keep vigil in this state?"

"Hmmm, let me think. So I have an excuse not to come home, Miss Granger?"

Rat!

"And yet you are here," she said smugly.

"I have successfully chased two smooching Griffindors and sentenced them to detention."

Ouch! Sadist.

"Why did you do that? What do you gain when you give students detention? Do you have fun to waste your time?"

He wondered. Presumably this had been too many questions at once, if you pulled his condition into consideration. "Do you know how long I have been teaching, Miss Granger?" He finally said. She shook her head. "I thought so. In any case, a very long time."

"That does not answer my question in the least, Professor."

"Really?" He said pointedly.

"Hermione shook her head. "So we will not get anywhere."

"Yep."

"Have you never had anything else in mind as to teach?"

He sighed. "You mean apart from my work as a Death Eater?" Hermione swallowed. "Or a spy?" Hermione suddenly became noisy. "Miss Granger, don't interpret too much into it," he said quietly. "We've been married for good and for good cause, otherwise you would not be sitting on my bed, I can guarantee you that." He narrowed his eyebrows and seemed to be thinking about what he had said. "Anyway, if you want to make my life unnecessarily to hell, you do not have to hesitate to tell your friends everything. Your guess, your exhilarating inspiration, really everything." He took a hard breath. "But I can assure you that you will have in this case a very short life expectancy."

She opened her eyes. "You want to kill me?"

"No, Miss Granger. I will not kill you - at least not in this state. But the Dark Lord."

"Oh."

"Exactly. With what this arrangement would take a quick end, much to the pleasure of my hand."

Hermione was confused. Suddenly, the idea was interesting, there could be more behind him, as just the Professor Snape she knew. "What exactly do you do as a spy?"

He shook his head, his untamed tresses fell down on both sides of his face. "Not today."

"All right, Professor." In fact, she thought it was sad, but she had to see that this conversation would not get the result she hoped for. He was in bad shape, but that would not deter her to squeeze out one by one. "But do not forget, we are married and I will enjoy it to make your life hell. I depend on it."

"Of course you will. I had expected nothing less."

"Good." She stretched tiredly.

"Miss Granger," she heard his voice softly penetrate through the space.

"Yes," she asked cautiously.

"You can forget Hogsmeade for this month."

"What? This is ... "

"You sit no longer confined to my bed, you even lie in it. Think about it. You took my pillow, my blanket and my sheets to make it complete."

"When did you last changed the sheets," she asked, puzzled by his emphasis. He did not answer, and Hermione felt a cold shiver on their skin. "This is a joke, right?"

He shook his head with his eyes closed and she crawled out of bed. Even before she reached the sofa, she could hear him snoring. Suddenly she was freezing. In her distress, she grabbed the black cloak, laying beside him on the armchair and wrapped up in it on the sofa.

Her wistful glance stared alternately between the abandoned bed and her snoring professor-husband back and forth until she finally fell asleep.

When she woke up, the armchair was empty. But she saw him lying on the bed with his clothes and shoes. He was like one long misery in back, his hands clasped behind his head he stared at her.

Hermione suddenly felt naked in her pajamas and wrapped as tightly as possible in his cloak, her cheeks flushed. "It was a trick," she noted overslept.

He nodded. "The house-elves are responsible for the laundry, if you forget, Miss Granger." His voice was deep and rough. A souvenir from the last night.

She bit her lip. Why had she fallen for it? In retrospect it was so obvious that he had tricked her. "All right," she murmured. "You've won this battle, but you will lose the war, Professor."

He shrugged his shoulders unimpressed. His eyelids were heavy but his shining black eyes meet hers urgently. Minutes of silence passed and it was a strange feeling that came over her, to be with him in this room. When she did not know what to make of the situation, she turned her head away and gnawed on her lips.

"What time is it?" She asked eventually.

"Do I look like an alarm clock?"

"Thank you, Professor!" She jumped up, without letting go of the cloak and disappeared behind the bathroom door.

She was not used to this place, but at least there was a shower and a bathtub, the only luxury below. The bathroom had no windows due to its location and was quite simply old. Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to freshen up. It was time to leave the dungeon and face the truth. Harry and Ron were determined frantic with worry about her.

When she got soaking wet from the shower, she realized that she did not have fresh clothes, or something more usable for herselve that she could wear or use for drying.

Damn it!

There was only her pajamas. Or the cloak of her professor, she had kidnapped on the way to the bathroom. She gritted her teeth and wrapped herself in it. Maybe he would not even notice it…

She carefully opened the door and peered out. He was still lying on the bed.

Damn it!

And he stared at her.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Would you be so kind as to hand me a towel?"

"Use your magic wand, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked angrily on the floor, where she had the night before dropped her wand, and stormed away, without further notice of him, out of the protection of the bathroom, across to the wardrobe, which stood in the room and opened it. She could feel his gaze on her back and spun around.

"Where are the towels?"

His brows were drawn together and brought the deep dark crease in the middle significantly to advantage. "What are you thinking?" His voice was as dark as his charisma.

"This wardrobe contains nothing more than your damn penguin-colored clothes! I need a towel!"

He cooked of rage. "You take my clothes on your body and even dare to insult my stuff? Give me the cloak! Now!"

Hermione looked at him desperately. "That's impossible." She struggled to calm down. In vain.

"Why not?" He barked.

"Because I'm wearing nothing underneath," she answered meekly.

He groaned. "You! Miss Granger, you are really intolerable!"

"What do you think, why do I need the towel, Professor?" She called back snotty.

"Has it occurred to you, to look under the sink?"

Hermione shook her head. "You get the cape right back, I promise." With that, she walked back into the bathroom, leaving the door behind her fall into the lock.  
Not long, she came trotting again.

"What is it now?" He asked impatiently.

"I forgot my clothes."

He rolled his eyes. "What has Albus intended to bring me into this situation? You are nothing more than a small, spoiled child."

Hermione took a deep breath. "That may be, Professor. But at least I'm not bitter and stubborn."

He did not answer, but followed her with his eyes as she bustled around the room and was looking for her clothes.

After she finally managed to leave the bathroom fully clothed, he stood with his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the bedroom door. His gaze fixed her and made her nervous as she approached him.

"The bathroom is free," she said with a wry smile.

He shook his head. "Negative."

When he saw the screwed up expression on her face, he rolled his eyes impatiently. "Do not worry, I took the time while you were asleep."

Hermione was relieved. And in fact, the alcoholic odor was completely gone from the room, she noticed only now. She sucked in the air and smelled a pleasant fragrance from his direction, she has never noticed before. "Shall we go?", She asked, to break the awkward silence.

He nodded, but made no move to step away from the door. "Miss Granger," he said in an unusually mild tone. "You may not have realize that it will have consequences if you leave these rooms." Her brown, innocent doe eyes looked at him expectantly, and he stopped short. "Anyway, you should not give the nakedness and respond to what other students are saying about you."

She nodded hesitantly and got an uneasy feeling in her stomach. "What happened yesterday," she said softly.

He cleared his throat, without going into details and stepped aside.

Great!

All of a sudden she had not such a hurry to leave the dungeon premises. "When you were drinking, you were more talkative," she said timidly.

He had pressed the jaws together. "What do you expect from a drunken man, Miss Granger?"

"The fact that he says things to me that he would never say in other circumstances."

He gave her a sharp look. "These are the words of a teenager."

"Oh, at least we are now to the point that I am no longer a child."

He snorted. "You want to be no longer a child? Then prove all the opposite. Show that you are able to deal with the situation."

She looked into his eyes and realized the seriousness in it. He was ready to get to the front upright, just as he had agreed to Dumbledore's will to take her as his wife. He would not leave her alone and be marching together with her into the great hall. The only question that was now was this: would she make it too?

Hermione took a deep breath in and out. "All right," she finally said. "The whole thing is a game, right?"

He narrowed his eyes. "If you want it ..."

"Then, let's go."


	4. Conversation

Chapter 4  
Conversation

Hermione could literally feel the eyes on her body and hear the murmur that came through the great hall, before they had ever entered.

"Do not fidget around," Snape hissed at her side.

He had grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away. Until shortly before they went through the doors, he let her go. Despite his lousy mood she was happy in a strange way, that he was with her and she was not left alone. She was already worried enough, when she realized that she would not sit with her friends from Gryffindor. It was Dumbledore's idea to present them all rapidly the new situation. This meant that the grace period was over, opened the hunting season.

Even from a distance she could see Harrys and Rons heads, beside Ginny. None of them dared to address them, which was probably due to the fact that the professor was with her. There were enough questioning looks from her friends. But she did not take long time to start thinking about this, because Snape was undeterred by all.

At last they reached the teachers table and he led her to her seat. He pulled her chair aside and waited until she was seated before he even sat down beside her. Hermione sighed in relief until she discovered on the other side of her as table neighbor Professor McGonagall who gave her a sympathetic look.

Snape did not look at her. He was rather busy punish certain students in the hall with deadly eyes, until at last they gave up to look in his direction or even his wifes.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and walked to the front to keep one of his typical speeches. Slowly the hall turned calm. Only now heard Hermione, there had suffered more under the marriage law. At least two other girls are married to people from the ministry. Others had made things worse. Those were great views...

Hermione stared at Harry and Ron, who were apparently still busy, tearing themself on her and her husband. Listlessly she chewed on her toast and washed everything down with juice. Professor Snape beside her contented himself with a cargo of coffee and Hermione could at the sight not help but smile.

"What's so funny, Miss Granger?" He said stiffly.

She held her hand over her mouth. "Nothing at all."

He turned in slow motion, his head in her direction, an eyebrow in the air, and looked at her. "I'm waiting."

"Does not the coffee taste good?"

He snorted. "Say just what you have to say. I'm sure we all want to hear it."

Hermione took a deep breath. "All right. But just because you want it."

He rolled his eyes, but she ignored him. "I dont get the picture of my drunken husband out of the head, who sat asleep in his chair, snoring."

McGonagall pursed her ears, which escaped him in no way, with the difference that he was not half as amused, as Hermione.

"Minerva," he said earnestly, leaning over the table just so that he could look into her face. "I must apologize for the childish behavior of my wife. She has not yet reached the age at which one can consume alcohol and therefore has no idea of its effects."

Hermione passed the laugh. She had never liked these stupid jokes about age differences before.

"In your place, you should not make jokes about it, Severus," McGonagall replied sternly. "You should be a role model to your students."

"She is my wife, Minerva," he grunted and sipped his coffee.

"So much the worse."

Hermione slumped in her chair. If she had just said nothing. The two seemed to be a really old couple.

He grinned. "Jealous, Minerva?"

"Dream on, Severus." Her voice was as sharp as her hat. "Just because you're married now, that does not mean that you're better off than the rest of us."

"If you mean to the rest of the workforce, then I am to you in any case one step ahead. The marriage rate here is alarmingly low."

"You picture nothing on us! Your bride lives in my house and ... "

"Really," he crossed with a graceful wave of his hands the slender fingers together. "I had the impression that she has spent the last night in my room."

McGonagall stood open-mouthed. "You are a sickening disgust, Severus. The poor girl ... "

Hermione finally had enough of it, that no one of the teachers noticed her presence, but everyone was talking about her. Because the students were already different.

At least she hoped so, banged her napkin on the table and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I think I desperately need people in my age group around me." She hurried to get away before the two squabbling teachers could argue something about it. Straightway she strolled through the hall and to the table of Gryffindors. Silence returned in the previous round, no matter how cheerful.

"I want to hear no word from you," she said sternly directed at Harry and Ron. "Let me just sit with you." She sighed deeply, her eyes had suddenly something pleading itself. "Please!"

Harry slid aside and made room for her.

"Thank you."

"How are you, Hermione?" He asked anxiously.

"I honestly have no idea, Harry."

Ron finally gave himself together and slid to her. "Hi, Mione."

"Hi, Ron."

"Can we do anything for you?" Harry asked. He was unsure of what to say, without hurting her.

She shook her head. "I think not. There was simply no other way, you know?"

He nodded, though he knew that was not the true understanding. "Is he ..." He tried and tried again. "Snape. At least he is nice to you?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows thoughtfully. "I think, he is what he is. It's hard to say, since we are talking about Snape."

"Even if he has only one bad thought that comes to you, I will hex his eggs off!" Ron came out angry.

"Thanks Ron, that's very nice of you." Somehow she was touched by his care. "But I think that's not necessary for the time being."

"But if so, then tell me. I'm ready!"

"All right, Ron," she smiled. Ron was just a typical teenager. He was not like Snape. Luckily.

Hermione was totally exhausted when she disappeared after school in the dungeon rooms. If she had known that it would be so tiring to come up with the whispers of the other students, she would have asked Dumbledore himself to stay another day or two in the dungeons, until everything calmed down. She closed the door to Snape's bedroom and collapsed on the bed. His bed, as she realized. Then she crawled up to the top and lay face down on the pillow. She immediately smelled his scent, which she had noticed on him this morning. It was strange, but somehow she liked it.

After she had finished her homework and browsed through many books, the door opened and Snape entered. When he saw her lie between the books on his bed, he hesitated, but said nothing.

Unlike Hermione. "How was your day, professor?"

He sat down in his chair and stretched out his legs, without answering.

"You had a lot of fun with Minerva?" She asked curiously, resting her head on her hands. Eventually he had to give in because she did not intend to give up so quickly and made herself comfortable in front of him.

"Certainly more than you with Potter and Weasley," he shot back.

Hermione grinned. "Well, except for the thing with the ... eggs." She bit her lip and went as red as a tomato.

He shot her a dirty look, but could only imagine what she meant. "I suppose you will not continue to deepen this issue?"

She shook her head and her wild mane was flying through the air. "Just as you will consider me your conversation with Professor McGonagall."

He cleared his throat. "Then we would have indeed been resolved."

"I agree. Talk about what you want then?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Speeches? I usually prefer to keep silent."

She rolled her eyes. "Usually, you have not been married. But since you are now, you should get used to it, talking to your wife, Professor."

He ran his fingers through his hair and yawned. "Are there not somewhere a few young friends, who you can annoy, Miss Granger? I feel too old for it." He looked at her intently, as if he could not wait to have her go.

She shook her head. "Nothing will come. No one will drag me out of there today anymore."

He sighed. "Then you should read your books."

She threw back her mane in protest. "Professor Snape, you know how much I like to read, but I've had enough for today. I'm still shocked by the fact of being married to you. It's terribly stressful for me, can you understand that?"

"Really?" His eyes flashed. "And what about me? Today I have given about as much extra work, as usual in a month. And all because of you alone."

"What? Because of me? You blame me for the fact that you hand out detentions?"

He pinched his lips together to slits. "You find that too funny."

"No, I think it's sad. Is there no other way?"

"Nope, Miss Granger." His fingers drummed tense around on the armrests of the chair. "Are you aware that this situation makes me ridiculous to the whole school?"

"You mean our marriage? It was not my idea, remember?"

"And yet I'm stuck because of you in trouble."

"It will pass, I am convinced, Professor. Certainly even. It must ... Hopefully."

He looked thoughtfully into the room and said nothing.

"In a week or two, well, maybe not quite - but say in one or two months, the storm calmed down. Those were your words ..."

He shook his head. "No, Miss Granger. There is far more to this. Things that exceed the safe confines of Hogwarts. Things that are really dangerous and this time plays a minor role. Events that change everything, mistakes that if you can not make them right, you risk your head."

At last she saw the light. "You talk about Voldemort," she noted.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"What's going on between you?"

"I can not tell you, Miss Granger," he replied huskily.

"Oh." She wanted to know in order to understand. "Why not?"

"Because it would not be good for you."

"You do not trust me."

"Even if I would trust you, every word would be a danger to you. Any knowledge would make you vulnerable."

"Are you always so resistant?"

He snorted loudly. "What I do is because of Dumbledore, the students and the school."

"I do not understand."

"Of course not. No one can understand that."

"You could at least try to explain it to me."

He laughed. "Why? Because you are Miss Granger, who was chosen?"

"Called?"

"Have you ever wondered just why you had the honor of marrying me?"

"What do you mean?", She asked. Panic spread through her chest.

Finally he lowered his head and looked at her. "Dumbledore knows of your talents. In this school, every teacher knows that you are not an ordinary student. You have much better results than the average. And this is very rarely the case. "He took a breath. "You have been chosen, Miss Granger, as well as me."

She dropped her chin and waited anxiously for a continuation of his words. "I am not without reason in Dumbledore's service. I am his confidant, his pet dog, as you've noticed."

"And I'm his best student?"

"As if that was not obvious."

"So we should get married? Because you're the best one to protect me?"

"If you like, yes."

"This is shocking!"

He shrugged. "This is life. It is never fair."

"He used me," she muttered angrily. "He has used us both."

"He had no choice. You forget that the Ministry is behind it. Dumbledore did the only correct what occurred to him, at least from his perspective."

"What would you have done?"

He looked at her. "That all depends."

"You will not tell me."

"No."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure how much truth you tolerate, Miss Granger."

"But you would have had other options?"

"Maybe."

"Will you tell me one day?"

"Maybe."

Hermione nodded and put her head thoughtfully on the bed. "You never really pull off your shoes?" And so she was on it again.

"Why?" He looked surprised. Of the short-circuit her brain responses.

"I do not know it, I just remembered that."

"I see. Teenager." He smiled shyly.

"Yes, and I'm proud."

"We do all pass through this phase."

"Really? Do you?"

His eyes again turned to stone. "This is unbelievable, but yes. Even me."

"Congratulations, I would have not expected that."

"Did you think I was born as a professor?"

"I do not know. In fact, I've never thought about it before, you know?"

"It's probably better that way." He yawned. "Miss Granger, may I ask, how much conversation you now want to run yet? I suffer still trapped under the effects of alcohol, headache and fatigue, and would like to go to bed."

"Really? But I ... "

"Miss Granger, Hogsmeade."

She sighed as she heard the sincerity in his voice. "Very well, you may now have the bed."

He raised one of his eyebrows again. "Today?"

"Yes, I thought, we change and I do the beginning and sleep on the couch tonight."

He wondered. "Agreed, until further notice."

"Can I go to Hogsmeade on Saturday?"

"No."


	5. Morning glory

Chapter 5  
Morning glory

It was early morning when Hermione woke up. She had curled up in a blanket that had been brought to her through Snape's arrangement by a house elf. She stretched and yawned with pleasure when she heard noises coming from the direction of the bed, where Snape was. Had she woke up because of this? Surely he had a nightmare.

She grabbed her wand and lit the candles, then she wrapped the blanket around her body and stood up from the sofa. The noises were getting weirder. Stepping softly she crept over to the bed and leaned over him. Her heart was pounding.

"Professor," she whispered softly.

Nothing. Only a faint moan, a twitch under his covers. All she could see through the blanket, was a wild black Haarmob that covered his face.

Her fingers had been wrapped tightly around the wand. She wanted to be prepared if he would pounce on her again. With the other hand she jerked at the blanket, at the point where she suspected his shoulder.

"Professor Snape," she cried, this time louder.

With one bound he ascended and jumped off the bed, with nothing more than wearing a black long sleeve and black pants.

And a stiff penis in it.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide when she saw his abdomen.

So huge!

"Miss Granger," he cried applied and covered his manhood with his hands. "What are you doing here?" His long strands flew wildly through the air, his black eyes bored deep into her head.

"I ... I thought ... you had a nightmare," she moaned, letting sink her wand ashamed.

He raised a hand, held out his index finger and pointed it at her, as if she would be the greatest scum. "I can assure you that it was not a nightmare. "But you", his fingers trembled, "are a nightmare. You and your childlike naivety are a nightmare!"

Hermione's cheeks were crimson red. "But, Professor Snape ..." she said sheepishly. She'd never have to face such a thing, at least not more of it than the descriptions in a book. And that was hereby not to compare. With Harry and Ron, she was indeed friends, but she did not live so intimately with them, that she would have had the opportunity to tear them out of their deepest dreams. And of course she had no idea that she would catch her professor in this state. The thought of his stiff penis frightened her.

"Turn around," he ordered in a hard voice.

Hermione obeyed, her heart was pounding and she promptly stared in the direction of the sofa. Ashamed, she bit her lip as she heard a soft rustling behind her.

"Turn around!"

She swallowed and carefully turned her head back. Relieved, she found that he had placed the blanket tightly around his body.

"Rules, Miss Granger," he breathed in short supply.

Her brow furrowed surprised. "What?"

He sighed hard. "You desperately need some rules."

Hermione just nodded. She still felt so ashamed that nothing mattered to her anymore.

"First," he began, "you never touch me."

Hermione raised her hand hesitantly. "May I say something?"

He rolled his eyes. "What, Granger?"

"Professor Snape, what if an emergency situation occurs?"

He snorted. "I could not think of a situation in which I would need your help, or even accept it."

Hermione swallowed and he continued. "Secondly. You stay away from my bed, when I sleep in it."

She nodded eagerly. She was not going to come in his way again.

"Third. You cease to wake me in the middle of the night." He looked at her so severely that it almost hurt. "Is that clear? I am a teacher at this school and don't want to have flying the dungeon walls around my ears, while brewing potions out of inattention, because you have robbed me my sleep."

"Yes, Professor Snape."

"Fourth." He thought. "I need the bathroom." He gave her an admonishing look. "That you do not even get the idea, to go near the bathroom door!"

She shook her head vigorously and crept over to the sofa.

With a loud slamming doors, he was gone.

Hermione suddenly had a thought. Ginny. She had many brothers and could help her more determined ...

Snape walked restlessly up and down, his cape billowing with every movement behind him.

Even Dumbledore was nervous at the sight. "Calm down, Severus," he said from his desk.

Snape paced the office with a few long strides and came to a halt in front of him breathless. "It makes me mad, Albus," he barked, leaning on the desk, so Dumbledore could look him directly in the eyes.

"May I ask why?"

He laughed out loud. His black hair strands whirled through the air and came to rest randomly. "Do you really want to hear?" Dumbledore simply nodded. "I'll tell you! She took my bed hogging and shoved my hair out of my face when I - for a good reason - was drunk. She has violated my privacy shameful." He took a deep breath. "And that's not all! She's covered with my cloak and wrapped herself in the morning after showering naked in it. because she could not find a towel supposedly. Do you understand? Naked!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat awkwardly. "I apologize for your hair, but to me it looks unharmed. As for the privacy, I can say you're now a married man, Severus." He smiled meekly. "And as for your clothes, well, you will surely find a solution. I know how much you like black and meticulously banish every fold of your garments ... Your cloak has taken no harm?"

Snape shook his head. His jaw worked hard.

"But if you want, I'll talk to her about it ..." He blinked at him encouragingly.

"No," Snape called applied. "That would only make things worse. She talks like a waterfall. About everything. At any time. And no matter where I go, she also seems to be there. As it is, I'm never alone somewhere."

"It was about time, don't you think? The lonely life in the dungeons is not good for a man in the long term."

"At least there I had my rest from hormone-driven teenagers and her silly giggle. This is not my world, Albus. I'm too old for that. I'm too old for her."

"I can quite understand your point, Severus." He looked at him with shining eyes over his glasses.

"Really?" A wry grin was on his mouth. "You must not share your bedchamber with a child, if I remember."

"Hmmm," murmured Dumbledore. "Perhaps the fault lies exactly in that."

Snape raised an eyebrow at him puzzled. "What do you mean? Do you also consider to take a wife?" From his mouth it sounded sarcastic and aggressive at the same time.

The headmaster looked at him sternly. "Severus, please! This is hardly an issue. Rather, I think you underestimate your own wife."

Snape leaned forward to close the distance between him and Dumbledore. His eyebrow slid up as usual. "I do what?" Every word beamed the effect of liquid silk.

"We're talking about Miss Granger. She is a very intelligent student and I would not call her a child. Maybe she's a little nervous. But this will settle with time. I could well imagine that she has certain charms to advantage one day ... "

Snape curled his nose in disapproval. "You are not married to her." He dodged back like a wounded animal and let his eyes wander out the window. "You and your great plans! The whole school laughs at it - about me." Sadness was in his voice.

"Then it would have been better, if we would have left her to someone else?", Dumbledore asked. "Someone who is unable to care for her and her safety?"

"She is curious and a know-it-all on top of that," Snape replied evasively.

But Dumbledore was not deterred. "You know what had happened earlier. And Voldemort", he paused, "Tom will not shrink to do it again."

Suddenly his anger seemed to change. "Don't remember me, Albus", he spat angrily. "You know that I will not tolerate weakness."

"But it is there, Severus. It is there. You're on thin ice."

He laughed scornfully. "At your request, or you forget that?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, he looked as if a new force took possession of him. "We all have to make our sacrifices, Severus."

"In fact." He pulled his wand from the pocket of his robe and spoke the words that have been agonizing him for long: "Expecto Patronum."

It was painful for him, but he was accustomed to endure pain.

Dumbledore could not help but to let him get carried away. He saw the silver doe hunt across the room and disappear after a few paces out of the window. Memories were awakened in him.

"Yes, Severus. It is your weakness", he said softly and reverently. "And you must learn to control it."

"Perhaps you have picked the wrong ..." Snape replied. His voice was lost in the middle of nowhere.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Only you have it in your hand, Severus. You alone. Guide her, teach her and keep her."

"But how?" He wrung his hands, his furrow between the eyes was deep and dark.

"I did not expect that you understand her. Your life-experience is completely different from hers. She has never seen the things that you have experienced. And that's her advantage. She is unaffected."

"She is naive."

"Maybe. But that will settle."

"I never had the intention to raise a puppy, Albus," Snape remarked acidly.

"Then you should restrict yourself out to show her the way. Maybe the rest inserts all by itself."

"You are too trusting," Snape replied, annoyed that Dumbledore always wanted to be right.

"Every man has his weakness. Everyone."


	6. To hell with the rules

Chapter 6  
To hell with the rules

"Ginny," Hermione said excitedly as she stormed into the Gryffindor common room. "Where are you, Ginny?"

Fortunately, there was not much going on at this time and Hermione tried to ignore the whispers of the few attendees about her and the marriage.  
Then already popped out red hair from one of the chairs.

"I'm here!" Ginny jumped up and ran to Hermione.

"We need to talk! Now, now!" She pulled Ginny behind her into a deserted corner of the room and plopped down on a chair.

Ginny sat down beside her. "What happened?" She asked with a worried look.

Hermione brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I have made acquaintance with Professor Snape's you know what."

Ginny jaw fell down. "You had sex?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, of course not."

The Weasley girl sighed with relief. "But surely it's coming soon, right?"

Hermione blushed furiously. "I do not think ... I do not know."

"Why not?"

"Ginny! How could you think such a thing of me?"

"Quite simply, you are now married and married people usually have sex."

"Exactly, usually. You forget that Professor Snape is my husband. And that's just because the Ministry wanted me to marry."

Ginny shrugged. "It's all right. But you do have snogged at least ... "

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "It may sound crazy, but Professor Snape is somehow not interested in me."

"You mean he's ... he likes men?"  
"I have no idea. He behaves almost like a gentleman and scrupulously ensures that we keep our schedule for the use of the bathroom, so we do not get naked in our way."

"You have a schedule?"

"Lately ..." She lowered her gaze in shame.

Ginny moved closer. "What happened, Hermione," she whispered softly.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, especially not Harry and Ron."

Ginny pressed her lips together. "All right! I promise. And now, out with it." Of course she was curious, and the fact that Hermione was trying to delay everything, did not make things better.

Hermione looked up carefully and looked her friend in the face. "Something has happened. This morning. I woke up and I heard all this noise." She swallowed. "I thought he had a nightmare and woke him up."

She could see how tense Ginny was and she began to doubt whether it was right to tell her everything. On the other hand, the list of friends to whom she could tell something was rather short. Harry and Ron would freak out if they knew more details about her life together with Professor Snape and to make matters worse, this was also a topic of conversation that she could only discuss among women. "Anyway, he jumped out of bed and I could see it," she continued. "It was huge."

Ginny stared at her open-mouthed. "Oh my God! You mean he ..." She did not dare say it.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Indeed."

"Was he naked?"

"No."

"Then you were really lucky indeed! Just the idea to see Professor Snape naked is pretty scary."

Hermione chewed on her lip uneasily, listening only half-hearted. "I do not know, but somehow it was different than I had imagined. In the books they never mentioned how big these things are. Is this normal?"

Ginny nodded. "I know what you mean."

Hermione was relieved. "And that is why I have come to you. You grew up among so many brothers. How do you do it at home, how do you have your privacy?"

"You forget that we live in a house and not in a secluded room in the dungeons, deep beneath the walls of Hogwarts." She stopped when she saw Hermione's reproachful look. "Sorry, it was not meant that way. Anyway, there are plenty of opportunities for us to go out of the way of others. Mostly."

"Assuming, there is more than just a room available," Hermione pointed out.

"You could still sleep in his office," said Ginny.

"I can not. Just imagine, he has someone sentenced to detention. And above all, the contract has unique terms which must be respected."

"You do have quite big problems," Ginny muttered.

"Indeed."

"What will you do now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I will keep the rules for the use of the bathroom and hope that everything goes well."

"Severusss, come and sit with us," hissed the voice of the Dark Lord.

Snape floated with exaggerated costumes to him at the table, bowed and kissed the bony hand that was held out to him. Then he took his place in the Round of Death Eaters.

"Married life suits you," said the Lord with a hellish laughter.

The rest of those present agreed to such a command. Bellatrix foremost.

Snape swallowed. He seethed with rage and had to be careful not to reveal his feelings. In his mind he would have liked to assassinate the whole ministry, which had brought him into this situation to be exposed before all. If Voldemort had not only possessed the ability to creep into his mind ...

"Yes, my lord." His voice was controlled, as if nothing had happened.

"It is a pity that you are advised of all to this mud blood, my boy," Voldemort continued.

The other Death Eaters were in turmoil. Apart from Lucius Malfoy, who was sitting at the table silent and motionless. Something about his attitude told Snape clearly that he was afraid.

"I'm sure you know how you have to deal with her," Voldemort said in a commanding tone.

Snape hated it when he did that. With Dumbledore he could deal. However, with Lord Voldemort, a tiny error could mean his death and the future of Hogwarts could be at stake. He had looked death in the eye and knew his day would come. The question was, however, under what circumstances he would die. And that made all the difference for him. It should not be here and not so.

"Yes, my lord," he said in a deep voice.

"I expect nothing less from you, Severusss."

Snape jerked his head in a bow.

"Now to you, Lucius," hissed the Lord.

Snape felt the tension that was on the face of the blond Death Eater and felt a pang in his heart. Lucius moved on thin ice by showing himselve so vulnerable. The Dark Lord did not tolerate weakness. Neither does he.

"Narcissa is still on the right path?" Voldemort said with honey-sweet voice.

Lucius cleared his throat and fell to bow his head before he began to talk. "My Lord. I can assure you that she is loyal to you." His voice was hoarse and weak.

Snape looked at him with raised eyebrows closely to an admonishing look.

"Well, Lucius. You're a liar. But for today, I will believe you." He laughed out loud. "There is a reason to celebrate! And you know that you can not deceive me, my friend."

"I am your humble servant," Lucius said with a shaky voice.

Hypocrites!

"Then let's raise the glasses," Voldemort shouted unimpressed. "On Severusss." He craned his ghostly pale and thin arm in the air. "Let him show his wife what it means to be married to a Death Eater."

Loud laughter rang out and goblets, filled with blood-red wine, were emptied. Snape was motionless, when fine wine disappeared into his throat. He had locked himself and reacted unemotionally to the happenings around him.

This was his life.  
This was his sacrifice.

Hermione was startled out of her sleep as the door to the dungeon room slammed shut and Snape slumped to the floor in front of it.

She bit her tongue. What should she do? He did not move and just lay there. Maybe he was unconscious?

To hell with the rules!

She freed herself from the blanket, in which she had curled up on the bed, grabbed her wand and hurried over to him. She called his name, but he did not answer.

She shook his shoulder, but nothing happened.

Panic came over her when she saw the lifeless black figure lying there that had inspired her so much respect during class. She was too weak to lift him up. She had to get help!

Just as she was on the way, she felt his fingers wrapping around her wrist. She winced and turned to him.

He looked terrible. And he smelled like that. The smell of alcohol that surrounded him was so uncomfortable that she felt almost sick. His face looked lifeless and distorted. Black strands of hair stuck to both sides of his cheeks, his eyes were closed.

"Professor," she cried, and listened to his breathing. "Can you hear me?" Finally, she could feel his pulse. He nodded and opened his eyes. They were troubled. "I'll get help," Hermione said, her heart pounding.

He groaned. "No." It sounded too quiet and too unreal for an otherwise dominated man as he was.

"But you need help. I ... "

He increased the pressure on her wrist. She looked into his eyes and saw the silent screams of despair that lay therein. What had happened to him? And why he did not want her to ask someone for help?

"Well," she said, though she felt that he was no longer with her. She was a witch and would manage to do this alone.

She quickly said a levitation spell, put an arm around him and rested his motionless body, as best as she could, with all her strength. Then she staggered over to the bed with him. He fell over like a sack of cement.

Hermione was completely out of breath, her hair was a mess, as she struggled with putting his body in a most favorable position on the bed. Then she took off of him hesitatingly the black cloak and leaned over him.

"Professor Snape," she said loud and clear. "Can you hear me?"

He nodded and opened his eyes again and looked at her.

"What happened?" Hermione asked worriedly. Her eyes locked with his.

He shook his head slightly and new strands of hair lay across his face.

Hermione sighed. "What can I do?"

He tried to say something, but without success, and cleared his throat. "It's ... cold." His voice was as rough as a grater.

"Of course," Hermione grabbed the blanket and pulled it over him, tucking the ends tight to his body. He nodded curtly, without letting her out of sight, though his eyelids seemed to be tremendously heavy. She looked at him, saw the face of her professor that most closely resembled that of another man at that moment, a completely foreign to her.

"You have an urgent problem," she said. Snape snorted. "How often it happens that you are so drunk?"

He coughed. "Do not be stupid, Granger," he squeezed forth.

Hermione put her index finger to his mouth. "Take a rest, Professor."

She could not resist the urge to shove his tousled, sticky strands of hair from his face. "Only this time you do what I say." Gently, she reached her fingers, guided by her desire, she pushed strand by strand to the side until she had a clear view of his face.  
The face that was so strange and yet so familiar. Her husband, whom she barely knew.


	7. An 'old' man's fate

Chapter 7  
An 'old' man's fate

This would be a very long night, Hermione was aware of. She was concerned about Professor Snape, because never before had she met someone like him. He was so completely different than Harry or Ron. Unpredictable. She felt obliged to remain at his side. Was it the contract they had entered together? She could not tell and the more she tried to figure it out, the more she seemed to move away from him.

Snape did not seem to be pleased to be the focus of her interest. "Go to sleep, Miss Granger," he said in a low voice, as she still persevered beside him on the bed. "You have lost nothing here."

She shook her head. "I can not do this. I will not shut an eye before I do not know what had happened to you."

He let out a deep rumble. "Why are you interested? It does not concern you."

She shrugged her shoulders.  
Yes, why?

"It is my duty. Or is it not?" She sounded confused.

"I absolve you from it," he said wearily.

Hermione's eyes slid over the pores of his skin pale, his prominent nose, which had changed from her closeness, even though it was not true. He never took his eyes off as she looked at him silently, accompanied only by the sound of their breath. She could feel that he was fighting his own battle. A fight against his fate.

"Go at last," he murmured eventually. It did not sound friendly.

But Hermione could not. Something held her back. The burden she had to charge by herself had changed her. "It is my duty to stay with you," she said pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "You have always been an obnoxious know-it-all."

But Hermione did not respond to it. "May I ask you a question?" She blurted out.

He pinched his brows hard. "No further questions, Granger."

"I'm sorry, Professor, but you leave me no choice. I think we should talk about what had happened. Ginny said ... "She suddenly fell silent and looked down.

Damn! Shut up!

He growled as he'd guessed what she had done. "You naive thing! You have talked with Miss Weasley." It was a chilling statement. Hermione blushed bright red in the face. His lips were deformed to narrow bars. "I thought it to me."

"It's definitely different than what you think," she said quickly.

"Really?" His voice was full of sarcasm. "And why did they stared at me so strange today during class?"

Hermione bit her tongue. "Well," she began carefully, "It could be that I've mentioned some things, that I better should not have mentioned ..."

"Miss Granger," he cried out angrily. This time the force, that stuck inside him, was clearly seen, although he was still suffering from the consequences of alcohol consumption.

"What am I supposed to do, Professor? After all that has happened this morning, I was pretty messed up ... "

She held her breath as he made a move to get up.  
It looked strange, as he leaned his upper body on the hands to stabilize, until he stood with both feet on the ground and built up to his full height before her. Of its speed and grace with which he had otherwise always moved, nothing more was visible. He looked just huge, like a clumsy black wall, as he stood before her in this state.

"Do not tell me that you have talked to her about _that_," he barked furiously. Black, unkempt strands fell into his face.

"But I had to talk with anyone about it," Hermione defended. "She has so many brothers and I thought it might help me to understand everything."

He stared at her incredulously. "How dare you? What is there to understand? Suffice it to you not that you have hurt my privacy with your curiosity? No! You must also tell everything around like a little kid."

"That's not true!"

"No? Tell me, Miss Granger, what is true!"

"Ginny thought you were perhaps not interested in women," she babbled on, without being aware of what those words would mean for him. His mouth was open, and Hermione's heart pounded as she saw him like that. "But then I thought to myself that this can not be, otherwise you would not have married me if possible ..."

"This is unbelievable," he bellowed. "You have made a fool of myself before that Weasley girl and now probably the whole school knows!"

"No, Ginny would not dare. You must understand," she said soothingly. "You forced me into this marriage without preparing me on what to expect. With my professor. I feel so helpless and alone. And that's not fair."

His black eyes glowed. "Fair? Do you think someone has asked me whether it is fair to do that? To marry a kid, that's my own student? Go out of my sight, or I swear I'll let a curse on you!"

She swallowed. Her pupils were large and she continued staring at him, unable to move away, as if the power of the binding contract held her on to him.

He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. "What shall I do with you, Granger? You do not belong here. You do not belong to me. This is no place for a naive child as you are."

"I know," she murmured kinked. "But you left me no choice."

"Let me alone!" He spat, his face contorted. "Finally disappear!"

She shook her head. "You know what's in the contract, Professor." It was a fact. "You know, as well as I do, that I can not go. Do you really think I would be here with you, in this horrible room, if I do not have to be?"

He closed his eyes. "To hell with you, Granger!" His hands were clenched into fists, he was on the verge of losing control of himself.

She felt the tears that rose in her eyes and felt her lips trembling. "No, to hell with you! You have left me no choice! You could have said no! A plain, simple _no_. Why have not you done it? You tell me now!"

The anger in his eyes met her so hard that she recoiled. "Why did you have to be born? Just as your friend Potter! You have ruined my life!"

"What life?" She wondered aloud. "This," she looked around, "you call a life?"

He was shaking with rage. His chest rose and fell, the close buttons on his black robe swayed with every move up and down. "You do not understand anything, Granger." His words were cold and uncaring.

"That's right. I do not understand. But you could at least try to explain it to me. We are both stuck here. You are under my responsibility, as I'm under yours. And nothing," she took a deep breath, "nothing you say or do will change that. Because it must be so."

He raised an eyebrow, his harsh voice was quickly turned into liquid oil. "What do you expect?"

A brief pause gave her time to enhance the effect of his words and the influence of the force that was in his interior.

"That I'll take you in the arms? I ascribe to you and tell you it'll be okay? Do you actually expect that I will put a world to your feet that does not exist, Miss Granger?"

He took a breath.

"I'm twenty years older than you. There were things in my life, that had more influence on me, than you ever will have, that happened to a time, when you were not even born. What do you expect from an old man?"  
She felt an unknown, painful sting inside of her when she brought his face and the words into a connection.

_No!_

She wanted to scream and could not. Her life seemed at this point to take an end. She wanted to silence him, for what he had said, and he was about to say.  
"I'm not your youthful lover. If you want that, go to Potter or Weasley."

He looked at her with that piercing gaze, his face marked by the pain of the past, Hermione could not decipher. "That will never happen," he added. With trembling fingers he took off his black shoes and let them fall to the ground.

It hit Hermione like the weft of a bomb. She did not know what to say. She simply stared at him. Stunned. Was that to be her life? Imprisoned in the dungeons of Hogwarts with a man at her side, for whom she was indifferent, who loathed her for what she was? A man who described himself as old, even though she had tried to suppress it. It took an eternity before she had found her tongue again.

"You, Professor Snape, are a terrible man," she said resignedly. She was injured.

A demonic grin settled over his face. "Tell me about it, Granger."

She felt as if he had rammed a dagger into her heart. She lay bleeding on the floor, but then she took her last spark of self-respect together and straightened. He gave her no choice but to raise new questions constantly. "Tell me, why did you marry me?"

"Do not worry, it has nothing to do with a romantic idea that you might have in your mind." He turned away from her and was slowly falling back on the bed, burying the blanket under his black-clad body. "Do not tell me you would have thought this arrangement would have a happy ending."

She heard his voice and could not see his face, but hear his heavy breathing. Only the black hairmob on the back of his head was visible, raising and falling with each breath of his body.  
Everything seemed too surreal to be true. Her professor and man, she herselve, this space in the dungeons. Even for someone like Hermione, who had so much stood by with her friends, it was too much. Instinctively she knew that he must have had a reason. A reason that she did not know.  
She did the only right thing that came to her mind.  
She stood up and walked away.

"He hates me," Hermione sobbed, turned to her friends, as she sat in a heap on a chair in the common room of the Griffindors. They were the only people who could comfort her, the only people she wanted to see now.

Ron grabbed his wand and jumped up. "I'll finish him," he cried angrily. He was also the reason why no one else was here. His rage had driven everyone else out of the room.

Ginny stood in front of him and shook her head. "No! You should go there better not interfered. This is something that the two need to clarify by themselfes. They are married, Ron, remember?"

Hermione swallowed. Ginny was right. And also not. New tears formed in her eyes. What should she do?

Harry stood stunned and did not know what to do next. "That will not do, Hermione," he said. "I have looked at it long enough. It is time that we do something."

Ginny looked worried. "But what do you want Harry? They are bound together."

"There must be a way."

"Of course there is," Ron exclaimed. "I'll kill him!" He lunged forward.

"No," Ginny spoke up again and pointed her wand at him. "You'll have to stay careful! He is your professor. And can you possibly imagine, what will be going on at home, when you even consider doing such a thing?"

Ron grumbled to himself. But Hermione did not hear him. She could not forget the cruel words that Professor Snape had told her, the bitter and hateful look in his eyes that had burrowed into her heart.

Her life had changed abruptly and she longed for a way out of this situation.

The fire flared up suddenly and out stepped an energetic Professor McGonagall, wand raised.

Hermione wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve. In vain.  
Not that too!

"Here you are, then, Miss Granger," said the tutor with a worried look around. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Weasley, would you excuse us," she continued.

The three friends made it reluctantly and Hermione remained with her teacher. "Miss Granger," McGonagall said softly, "I'm very worried about you." In her face were deep wrinkles. "What happened?" She took herself a heart and sat down beside her, her wand turning restlessly in her hands.

Hermione swallowed and hardly dared to look at her. She was very ashamed to be put in this position.

"I must apologize for Professor Snape," said the woman continued. "He's sometimes a little ... unconventional."

Hermione sniffled and nodded weakly.

"Whatever happened, I'm sure it's not your fault."

She mused. What should she do? Shout her anger out? Blame Snape? She did not know.

"Do you want to talk about it?" McGonagall asked cautiously as she noticed Hermione's hesitation.

"No," she answered simply. Only now she dared to raise her eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."

McGonagall looked at her intently. "Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It is just a misunderstanding. That's all."

The wrinkled lips of the woman curled. "Miss Granger, do not protect him. The situation in which you are stuck, is terrible. You have my full understanding."

"Thank you."

The teacher thought. "Be that as it may, you should talk about it, I will receive you at any time."

Hermione was touched and ashamed at the same time. All of a sudden she felt her force returning to her. "Thank you, Professor," she said strengthened. "I'm fine."

McGonagall looked at her in surprise. "As you think, Miss Granger." She stood up and walked to the fireplace, took some floo powder and called her final destination. "The dungeon, Severus Snape's private rooms."

Hermione tore her mouth open in protest, but it was too late. McGonagall was gone.  
_Oh no!_


	8. I have tits!

Chapter 8  
I have tits!

Snape sat on the bed and pulled on his black shoes, as Professor McGonagall rose from the chimney.

A smirk appeared on his face. "What do I owe the honor, Minerva?"

She rushed up to him, still the writhing wand in her hands. "You exactly know," she cried. He made a hard, unreadable face and she let out an angry scream. "Severus! Stop it! You can not fool me."

He cleared his throat. "All right. What do you want?"

"The truth! Miss Granger was resolved, as I was reported by a number of students."

He rolled his eyes. "Griffindors."

She gave him a stern look. "That does not matter. I want to know what's going on here! You should not play games with the poor girl."

"And that's why you come to me?" He asked grinning innocently.

"Of course. She did not dare to say anything."

His gaze remained on her eyes. "It does not concern you, Minerva," he said simply, his voice deep and consolidated.

"I care actually. She is a student at our school. She needs our help, Severus." The old woman had something pleading in her eyes. "You are a teacher and would have to understand that."

"I am not only that, as you know," he replied sarcastically.

McGonagall's eyes widened, her wrinkled lips quivered. "Is that all? All you've got to say?"

"I have to teach a class," he said evasively and stood up. "You'll find out alone?"

She was so angry that she took a step closer towards him and defiantly stood in his way, though he towered over her a lot. Her index finger sank into the black fabric of his clothes, right in the middle of his chest.

He snorted. "Take your hand down, Minerva." It cost him all his strength to remain calm, his chest heaving tense. Even the vein was throbbing in his buttoned neck.

McGonagall was not impressed. "I know you for too long, Severus Snape," she said sternly. "I do not fear you. And you should refrain, to scare your wife. I will not let you treat her badly. Look into yourself! Don't you know what load is on her? That she at every step along the corridors of our school is in danger? Above all from your own house! You should be lucky that she endures it all, even though new students turn their backs on her every day. Do not you see what you could have, if you give her something? "Her eyes protruded far out and stared at him.

"What," he snapped back. "Are you expecting that I buy her flowers?"

She grimaced. "Of course not. Although that would be an approach ... "

"Do not be silly, Minerva," he spat.

She rolled her eyes. "Be kind to her. You've done it before and you'll be surprised what a kind word can move."

His brown furrowed. "You do not know what you're saying." The usually dominated voice was altered slightly.

Minerva knew the influence she had on him. "It's not that you had not noticed to whom she is similar," she said.

His jaw dropped down. "Don't! You have no right to talk like that."

McGongagalls brow furrowed. "Really? I've known you since you were a boy, Severus. And I knew her. You know the pain that we all felt at her loss."

"No! Keep her out of that, "he called distraught. The last remaining color had drained from his already pale face.

But Minerva would not let go. "Feel it. Get back the life into you. You are guilty about it since the day you became a Death Eater and have betrayed her."

"No." His voice thundered through the cold room. His eyes expressed the horror he felt.

"The question is, what will you do, Severus?" Her words were quiet and haunting. She still had her finger pressed to his chest. "She has turned away from you." He looked like a ghost. Pale and lifeless in his black things. "Think about it. Miss Granger is the only person who has endured your presence as long as possible."

That hit him. He swallowed hard, although he was known to show hardly any emotions. "Why are you doing this?" He said evasively, in a low voice, avoiding her eyes.

She slowly shook her head, took her finger from his chest and made a step back. "I mean it well with her," she said mildly. "And also with you, Severus." After she had given him one last look, she stepped into the fireplace and disappeared again.

Hermione was in a panic. What would he think of her, after McGonagall had come to him to talk to him about her? She went down into the dungeon and headed for the classroom. His classroom. Even from a distance she could see Harry and Ron, who held out for her. She sat down without saying a word to them, and rested her head on her hands.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked cautiously.

She nodded.

"What did McGonagall want?" Ron asked.

She shook her head. "Does not matter." What should she say to them? Sadly, she stared straight ahead and waited.

Her heart was beating wildly as she heard the familiar steps of black shoes that she had stored in her heart. Snape stormed into the classroom and glanced around, his gaze was longer than usual hanging on her.

She swallowed tense. Next to her she could feel that Harry was trying to keep a growling Ron in check. But the professor ignored him plain and dignified. It was hard to interpret what was on Snape's face. Was it disappointment or anger? No, not really. But she could have sworn that he had changed.

She noticed his dark figure. He was again entirely himself, with no trace of the events of last night, apart from the tired eyes. His hair had been kempt, his clothes were correct, without a single wrinkle in it. What was going on with him? He was so versatile, so controlled, short-tempered and weird at the same time, as a man could be.

Hermione stared at him while he taught and all of a sudden she felt this strange connection to him that went along with the contract they had signed. She knew, no matter what she did, whatever he did, she was bound to him.

_Damn!  
To hell with you!  
No! To hell with him!_

When she was going to drown, she wanted to go with him. He owed her. So it wanted the contract.

As she entered the Great Hall for dinner, she could feel his black eyes haunting her. She shuddered and took a deep breath, sat trembling one foot in front of the other until she finally arrived at the table of the teachers.

Snape stood up and pushed back her chair. She sat stiffly on it and he said not one word.  
Hermione stirred listlessly in her soup. She was furious. On him. Would he actually go through with this scam and pretend as if nothing had happened? She felt McGonagall beside her was restless and rocked with one leg up and down.

Hermione let the spoon fall on the plate and looked at how the soup splashed on all sides. Snape winced and wiped with a napkin parsley from his chest. Hermione had difficulties to suppress a smile. It served him right. He still did not say a word.

McGonagall cleared her throat. She had no appetite today. Why?

The soup disappeared before their eyes, and the next meal appeared by magic. Hermione pursed her lips. Ironically it was a pheasant! If there was something she could not tolerate that evening, that was a dead bird on her plate. Apart, of course, from the fact that she had to sit next to a stock stiff middle-aged man, who disobeyed her. And all that on the request of the Ministry. She sighed and felt a pair of black eyes sweping over her.

"What," she asked loudly.

Snape quickly lowered his eyes, he coughed and choked.

McGonagall gasped.

Hermione's heart was pumping wildly and upset. "Suffocate on this bone," she continued.

Snape froze to a petrified black column.

McGonagall took a breath. "All right, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shot her an angry look. "No! What do you think? I'm married to this old man, who looks as if he was going to a funeral every day." She paused, gasping for breath.

"There, you see, Minerva," Snape said through clenched teeth. "It's a burden to be married with her ..."

Hermione spun around. "YOU! How can you of all people dare! And do not even get the idea to still call me a child. I have tits!"

McGonagall gave a cry and put her hand to her mouth. She was almost as pale as her napkin. Loud murmur ran through the hall. Hermione babbled more indignant.

"Yes, tits! But you probably would not even know if they were right before your eyes, because you never have seen something like that!" Furious, she stood up. "And one more thing! If you would not drink so much, I do not even know that."

She stomped off.

McGonagall stared after her with her mouth open.

Snape also. A rest parsley still hung on his temple.


	9. Detention

Chapter 9  
Detention

Hermione was crying on the bed when three wizards appeared in Snape's dungeon room. She panicked. In addition to Professor McGonagall she saw her headmaster. And behind them appeared, with hands in the pockets of his coat, Professor Snape. He looked tense, his eyes glowed.

"Go away," she sobbed and pulled the pillow over her head, so no one could see her face.

Snape would have prefered to sunk into the ground, but Professor Dumbledore would not let him out of sight, and so he had no choice but to retreat into the darkest corner of the room and to melt into the pitch-black environment, in the hope that no further notice would be taken from him.

Professor Dumbledore sent a word of power to Hermione and she peeked out from under the pillow ashamed. Then the headmaster gave her house teacher the word.

"As a measure against your behavior you will spend this weekend with your husband in your private quarters. For food and beverage, we will send you a house-elf." McGonagall held her stern gaze between Hermione and Professor Snape, who was in his cover barely visible. "Both of you are prohibited from knits to leave the premises."

Hermione was shocked. "You give me house arrest," she asked incredulously.

A deep rumble was heard from the dark corner, but Snape did not consider it necessary to come forth.

"Do see it as a punishment, Miss Granger," McGonagall assured her with another stern look.

"But you can not hold me just here," she cried. "Not with him. This will not end well!"

"I'm still your teacher, Miss Granger. And you will call me Professor," Snape growled in a deep voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

McGonagall rolled her eyes and did not elaborate. "Seize the opportunity, because it can not go on like that. The reputation of our school is at stake."

"It will get worse when you need to carry two bodies from the dungeons ..."

"Miss Granger," said Dumbledore quietly. "Please calm down. You leave us no other choice. You know the contract and must find a way to get along with your husband."

Hermione swallowed.

Snape growled.

McGonagall whirled around the room. "No visits." Then she disappeared together with Dumbledore through the chimney.

That would be a hell of a long weekend.

There had already two hours passed since the two professors were gone, and still no one of the two prisoners had said a word. Snape stood with folded arms in his dark corner, staring at her, no matter what she did, he would not let her out of sight.

She grabbed a book, leafing listlessly in it. Eventually, she sat on the bed and had her arms intertwined. She was uneasy, but decided to do something about it. If he already was planning to assassinate her, then at least soon, not until after he had taken her apart with his deadly looks.

She cleared her throat. "Is this now going on the whole weekend?" When he did not answer, she tried again. "Why do not kill me right now?" Her attempts to bring a smile failed. He did not respond anyway. "Professor, I can understand that you are angry, but it has just blurted out of me. I could not stop it."

Nothing.

She swallowed. "Is there anything I can do to make it up?" From his side still was no response.

Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. Slowly she walked towards him, her hands were shaking. Then she remembered that she had left her wand lying on the bed. But at that moment she did not care. She had crossed the room and remained standing five feet away from him. His eyes glowed still, and were fixed on her face, his jaw was firmly pressed together.

When she was about to close another step on him, he raised his hand. "Go back, Miss Granger," he ordered loudly. "Before I forget myself."

But she just could not do nothing as long as she was trapped here with him and put one foot forward. In her next movement he flung her away with a simple movement of himself, without touching her.

She had not realized that he had directed his wand at her and sat bewildered on the ground, not daring to move. It took minutes before she had taken courage and tried to aproach him again.

"Please, Professor, talk to me," she said anxiously, and with damp eyes. "I'm so very sorry ..." She slowly came closer.

"It does?" Growled his deep voice emotionless.

Hermione nodded. "It was not intentional." Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Leave me alone, Granger." His words sounded strange, hurt.

She held out her hand to him, but he struck her roughly with a quick movement and Hermione dropped it again. It was far more than just physical pain she felt. His cool contempt towards her was unbearable in her eyes. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his mind had to go haywire.

Hermione wanted to know what was going on inside him. "Please, Professor," she whispered desperately.

"What for?" He barked back. "This time you have clearly pushed it too far, Granger." A deep crease was between his eyebrows.

Hermione nodded dull. "What must I do to make you believe me?" She stared at him and waited.

He sighed and leaned his head back and slid back against the wall down until he was sitting on the floor. His eyes were closed, his bent knees supported by the pale hands. He was knocked out and defeated. "You can not do anything."

Hermione was lost in front of him and looked down. She was ashamed of what she had done, but she did not know how to explain it to him. Slowly she went to her knees and put her trembling hand on his. He suddenly opened his eyes and fixed her with his own. With the speed of a wild animal, he suddenly jumped up and pushed her to the ground.

Hermione rang the head when she hit so hard. Before she realized what was happening, she found that he had bent over her. He sat on her body without touching it with his own, pried his knees on either side of her waist, his hands pressed her wrists to the floor. She was breathing faster.

Something, that was beyond her imagination, took possession of her. Was she afraid of being powerless, helpless? She tried to free herself. In vain. He was too strong.

"Why, Miss Granger?" He asked with a silky voice, without taking his eyes from hers.

She resisted to move on, it would not be of use anyway. Although he was skinny, he also was tough.

Confused, she wanted to give him an answer, but what?

"Why did you do that? Do you enjoy to humiliate me?"

Hermione shook her head, unable to say anything. She was ashamed of her outburst in the great hall, she was so ashamed!

No emotion on his face was visible. Not even the by his students dreaded grin. He just looked at her, nothing more. She could feel his pulse accelerated and smell his breath. It was strange, but the overall picture, that formed from his fragrance inside her was far more comfortable than she had thought.

The tears had dried on her face, her trembling body subsided. She still lay buried under him and his breathing finally calmed down. She had no fear. Not any more. Instead, she began to observe his face. She knew that he was about mid-thirties, after he had recently made it all too clearly to her in the fatal conversation.

However, the deep furrows that crossed his pale skin, let him look older. And yet there was something that attracted her magically. It was his black eyes, so unreadable, they did not let her go. They seemed so deep and endlessly fascinating.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually.

He breathed audibly out, loosened his grip until she was free and let his hands hang down on either side of his body. The eyes were closed. She was still watching him. His pale skin, his elegant fingers. She wanted to touch him. She did not know why, it was just a feeling that she had.

Hermione hesitated until she dared to put her hand on his. To her surprise, he only flinched without withdrawing, but his eyes were staring at her strange. Something new and unknown lay in them. Confusion?

She sensed that he did not have much physical contact with other people, the insular life in the dungeons had to be more than lonely. Bravely she closed her fingers around his wrist and pulled him slowly but steadily to her until his head was only a few inches from her face.

She still did not know what she was doing, let alone why she did it.

"I'm sorry," she repeated softly. Her heart pounded with excitement, but it was different now. She wanted to feel the tantalizing feeling that made her forget the loneliness that surrounded her day after day within these walls. She wanted to have him with her and feel his body on her. There was something appealing in itself, to have him near her, because even though he was so closed, she felt that he was full of energy. He was, after all, a man.

"Take me to your wife," she whispered in his ear. Her breathing was faster at the thought of what he would do. She was so very curious and expectant. On him.

No sooner had she uttered, it had happened to him. He seemed to forget all the absurd situation in which they found themselves. And also who they were. He swallowed hard, then he pressed his knee between her legs, pushed them apart and impatiently opened his pants.

Hermione wanted to know it and looked down between his legs. She saw his hard penis, contrary sticking out of his now open pants, and unconsciously licked her lips.

It was disturbing and exciting at the same time. It all looked very different than she had expected, yet she felt a strange stirring inside her, that penetrated to continue.

Carefully, she took his hand and led it to her abdomen. Then she felt as he pushed up her skirt with his fingers and with a jerk tore down her panties. It was all new to her and she knew that she could expect nothing romantic, just as he had predicted it. But she also knew that there would be no escape from the hell in which she was trapped. But above all she wanted it. She wanted to get to know this man, to whom she was bound and if it should mean her biggest sacrifice.

She led his hand and let out a painful scream as his fingers inexperienced invaded her and pushed in and out, moving as if they were looking for something. She heard his breath in her ear flow and felt the hardness of his abdomen that was pressing against her body with every movement. Even if she was afraid she would not give up. She wanted it.

Then she looked at his face and realized the turmoil, in which he found himself. He was excited. But he was also confused. What would he have done if she had not challenged him? It was her equal. For her there was no turning back, just as she could not solve the connection to him, she would not push him away.

Her fingers groped down his body until she held his cock in her hand. The feeling to feel her hateful and cold professor at the edge of helplessness and weakness, as he gave up himself and could not tame, was overwhelming. For her it was a step she needed to do to get known him.

Not just for her.

He groaned as he felt her fingers on his manhood. He felt this strange girl forced herself to him with an urge to be conquered by him. He was overcome with emotion. It was all so new. Her warmth among himselve, her proximity.

His cock was firm and she could feel it in her hand moving up and down his body until she finally did it by herself. He was leaning on the arms and surrendered alone in her movements. His eyes were closed by times, sometimes he looked at her in ecstasy. New and unknown.

Hermione was enjoying watching him and listening to his strange noises until she was excited about it. She wanted to know if he would allow it to penetrate her body and took his tip to her damp body.

His eyes shone with the painful look of the unknown, but she went on to his penis, moaning in pain and stopped. Unexpectedly.

Just as he.

She bit her lip and suddenly realized he was moving with the tip into her, his breathing was uneasy when he happened to.

It was beyond her imagination, she was torn between the pain and the challenge of the unknown.

She wanted to hold onto it in order to curb his power, he pushed her on the hard, cold floor. She focused painfully on him and sank her fingers into the black stuff on his quivering back.

His movements became more intense, his thrusts stronger. Suddenly he was faster and shot his seed into her body, trembling, until the waves subsided. Beads of sweat glistened on his pale face that was framed by wild strands of hair.

His breathing was still uncontrolled and his cock hard when he pulled it out of her and stepped back from her distraught. He crawled on his hands and feet against the wall and leaned back against it, with open pants, his eyes full of horror, with a strong trembling chest.

"What have you done, Miss Granger?" He asked, trembling and in a broken voice, as she had never heard him before.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Hermione pushed her skirt down and sat up confused.

So that was it.

The big secret to the thing with the sex was revealed. But what was it?

Hermione was confused. She had willed it so. She wanted to feel him, she wanted to see him weak.

For everything he had ever done to her. For every humiliation she had suffered because of him in front of the whole class. It was no wonder that she had always hated him, as all the other students did too.

Shockingly, he had always been one of the most fascinating professors at all. Strict and harsh and self-possessed. But now, after that was done, she was not sure if she was able to pick up where they had been before. Professor Snape was a man like any other, with the same weaknesses and mistakes. His hard, almost inhuman facade, his reputation far preceded him, had disappeared for a moment and the person that was hidden deep within him, been expressed.

Still, his breathing was uncontrolled, his black locks of hair hanging over his confused face.

"I am your teacher," he said with a desperate tone. Contempt was in his eyes. "Damn it! What were you thinking, Granger? You had just ... " He choked. The word itself already seemed so infinitely to compromise him, that he had trouble pronouncing it. "... Sex with your teacher!"

He looked at her with his guilty face and looked confused when he did not know what to make of the situation.

Hermione was serious. "No, you are my husband," she said consolidated. "You can not blame me for wanting to get to know my husband."

He looked weak. His hands trembled as he closed his pants. She had never seen him so desperate.

Hermione crawled over to him and put her warm hand on his cheek. "You are my husband," she repeated. At that moment everything else seemed to be indifferent to her.

Her life had stopped at the point to be normal when she was married to him. In addition, she was a witch, so the word normal was difficult to define anyway. But the real trigger for the whole disaster had been his words, which he had thrown to the head. He had only made her really aware that she had no future.

Not at his side. Not with him.

"You're out of your mind," he whispered, pushing her hand away. "This is absurd!"

She looked at him with a look that pleaded not guilty. "Why do you have allowed it then?"

He seemed absent, withdrawn into himself and tapped his upper body up and down.

"Why," she asked again.

He shook his head, his hateful face was deathly pale and still covered by individual strands. But even that did not stop her from getting to see the deep furrows between his eyes, brought his concerns to express.

She held out her hand and pushed his hair to the side. "Professor ..."

He grabbed her arm and pushed her away with a single movement of him.

"You do not know what you have done, Miss Granger," he exclaimed in horror. Then he stood to his feet and staggered to the bathroom.


	10. Detention part 2

Hey, here is another update for you. Thanks to all who have not given up. I still could need some help with the translation, so if you know someone who is willing to help me, you are welcome. I have asked more then 32 people from nearly everywhere in the past view months. During winter I was seriously ill, but now I hope, that I have recovered enough to carry on.

Please tell me what you think about the story. By the way, I had a little chat with houseghost, the author of the story, who has given me the permission to translate it.

Thx!

Chapter 10  
Detention part 2

He was whipped eighty minutes in the shower before he turned off the tap and Hermione was surprised when the hot water would probably dry up. Then she remembered that they were indeed at Hogwarts and he could conjure, he might as well just showering with cold water ...

She could not think clearly. Her world was completely turned upside down by the events that had taken place in the last days. Professor Snape was not the man of her dreams, and yet she felt that the peculiar sense of duty, that she felt towards him, the resignation to her fate, grew. She felt powerless and tried on her very special way cope with it. It was strange, but somehow she was not half as outraged as he, that it had come to sex between them. All his pride and strength were gone in the short time when it was done. He had lost control of himself and the situation. And that was something that had never happened to him.

She still sat on the floor where he had left her and waited thoughtfully what would happen next. At last the door opened and he stepped out from the bathroom. Fully dressed in his black robes, without a single wrinkle on it and accompanied by a captivating scent that instantly boosted her imagination.

Hermione jumped up and came towards him with a beating heart, but he only gave her one of his usual disparaging glances and made a wide circle around her as a precaution, if the size of the room allowed it. She sighed and continued on her way to the bathroom. There she was swallowed by the hot steam.

Having refreshed and wearing sports pants and sweaters she came out and felt good. For the first time since she was back at Hogwarts, she felt her spirits awakened. Above all, she felt the triumph that she had no fear of him. And that made her feel that it was worth the whole thing.

Her eyes swept carefully over to the chair in which he sat. As she had suspected, with a glass in his hand. When he saw her, he put it to his lips and drained it in one gulp.

Hermione sighed and walked up to him. "Give me the glass," she said sternly, holding out her hand. Her eyes widened as she realized that it was filling up by itself. "Do it now!" He shrugged his shoulders and put it unimpressed to his lips again. "That will not work," she said.

He rolled his eyes. "Is it still not enough, Miss Granger?"

She paused and frowned. Every word out of his mouth sounded cold.

"Did not you get what you wanted?"

She looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?" He could not possibly mean that.

"You lost your virginity."

Ouch!

She had been deceived and turned beet red in the face. "Just like you."

"Hmmm," he growled. "Obviously, it was not, as you have imagined. I'm sorry."

His lips curled into a slight, smug grin. Hermione wanted to ignore it. He had been drinking, what could she expect?

"I am an old man and sometimes a little impatient, as you may have noticed."

She bit her tongue, it hurt when he said that. "Why do you say that, Professor?"

"Because you leave me no choice, Granger."

She shook her head. "All right. We should stop to make each other's life hard."

He laughed scornfully. "Yes, good idea ..."

She put her hands on her hips. "I'm serious."

"I might not?" He let the alcohol run into his mouth and waved it up and down with his tongue.

"No, you do not. But I'm willing to start over if you tell me what you expect of me. So it can not go on eventually."

He swallowed the wine. "No idea," he said empty.

"What? I'm willing to give me over to you and you do not even know what price you should ask?" She was confused. "This is all a game, is not it?"

He nodded. "Right. And again not."

"What do you mean?"

"Granger, you have done well. My respect." He pointed a bow with his head. "You do sleep with your teacher, even though you were not ready. Not to mention himself."

She went to her knees in front of him, sat down at his feet and looked into his black eyes. "Professor," she whispered gently. "Please listen to me."

He bent down and turned, to her surprise, his wine glass next to the chair on the floor. His eyes fixed her. "I did not think that you actually pull through with this," he said in a weak voice, folding his fingers in front of his lap. He only stared at her for a while, looked deep into her brown eyes, that blinked to him innocently. "It's amazing, Granger. But at the very least I would have expected that of you."

Hermione lowered her gaze to shame. She almost felt sorry for him, but still his cruel words, he had said to her, were embedded in her memory. She was aware that they both were in a hopeless situation, they had not chosen. For a moment she did not know whether to laugh or cry, and stretched out her hands towards his hesitantly. "Professor ..."

He swallowed hard. "Leave it!"

Harsh he pushed her aside and ran his fingers through his hair fresh. She immediately inhaled his pleasant fragrance.

"You must always do the opposite of what is expected of you," he said and put his palms elegantly on the armrests of the chair.

She was so perplexed that she did not know how to go on. It was hard to oversee that the sexual experience he had had with her had harassed him. He looked so vulnerable in that moment that it was hard to compare him to the man he portrayed in his classroom.

"Whatever you want, I'll do it," she whispered softly. "I am bound to you."

"How ironic," he murmured absently.

Hermione shuddered at the sound of his deep voice. She found herself longing to watch him and felt the urge to touch him. What could be more seductive than its most vulnerable point in this moment? She put her hand on the bulge in his pants, right between his legs. It happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that she already was anticipating to be conjured again through the room. But the opposite was the case. He moaned and dug his fingers into the arms of the chair. She could feel the tension under which he stood and turned to look at his penis which immediately responded to the unexpected touch in the pants.

There was a brief moment when he let himself go, but then he had found his old familiar control again. His strong hands grabbed her and held her away from him. "Why do you want that?" He asked with a mixture of discomfort and desire.

"Because you want it," she answered simply.

He shook his head. "This is only the body, not the spirit."

"That does not matter," she breathed.

One of his eyebrows shot suddenly into the air. "You challenge me again?"

"You leave me no choice," she repeated his words, which he had previously thrown at her head.

"You really want me to hurt you?" He asked incredulously. "Why?"

"You can not deny the contract," she said. "There are things that we need to find out. No matter at what price. I do not have much to lose if I look at the life that lies before me. I'm locked in a dungeon, with a man who, although married to me, shows no interest in me." Too much desire for the unknown was in her voice.

He did not answer. Instead, he leaned up and grabbed her with a firm grip on the shoulders, without her having made even the slightest institutions to fight against him. With a few steps he had pulled her behind him over to the bed. He pushed her onto the mattress, crouched on her and ripped her sports trousers rudely from her body. When he realized that she had nothing on underneath, he looked like a question mark. "Do not you wear underwear?"

She seemed confused. "Not at the moment. I can not leave the premises ... "

He hesitated no longer, and freed his abdomen from the shoes and the clothes and threw everything on the floor.

Hermione first saw the length of his completely naked hard member from nearby towering in front of her. Without his clothes all looked even more unreal than before. Her heart began to beat wildly as he bent low over her, staring at her lustfully. It was not long before she wrapped curious and expectant fingers around his manhood. He groaned and moved in her hand. Hermione liked the feel of the strong, soft skin in her hand and the heat that radiated from him.

She carefully ran her thumb over the sensitive tip and enjoyed the unexpected reactions of her body, as a comforting shiver ran through him. After a short time he put his fingers around hers and pressed his penis impatiently down to her warm body center.

Hermione had little time to prepare for the pain until he bumped against her soft folds. She bit her lip and moaned anyway. He penetrated into her rudely and went out again. She flexed her muscles under him and dug her fingernails into the long rows of buttons on his arms as he moved up and down. Inside and out.

Suddenly he stopped and paused. "I can not do that," he said, as if paralyzed.

"What? Why not?" Disappointment was in her voice.

"It was never my intention to do that, Granger. Especially not with you!"

She felt like slapped and was unable to answer. Already he slipped out, rolled off her body and collapsed on the bed beside her.

Hermione leaned on her elbows and looked over at him as he lay with a trembling chest on his back and ran with both hands through his long hair. His excitement was still clearly visible. She braced up and lay down with her body close to his, her head resting on her hand so she could look him in the face. He let his arms fall quickly, staring at her with discomfort in his eyes.

"Of course you can," she said encouragingly. What had she to lose? "I can too."

"This is something completely different," he snapped back.

She mused. In a sense he was right. When she pulled his own power into consideration, he could force her to do things she did not want. But that was not what had happened.

"Look at me," she said. To her surprise, he glanced over at her. "You have done nothing wrong. It was my decision to do that. With you, my husband."

He shook his head, and shoved his hands stressed through the hair. "It's not right. I am your teacher, Miss Granger. Do you understand what that means?"

She chewed on her lip and ran her fingers over the buttons on his chest. Did she mind? Did she ever understand it, with all the problems that surrounded them? She was not sure herself.

"When will you finally stop to see yourself as my supervisor?" She asked in return.

"As long as you go to school here and I'll teach you, nothing will change. And even if you are no longer my student, I will not just do, as if you had not been here before. And even then, "he took a deep breath," there's still this age difference of twenty years, that is between us. Enough for you, Granger?"

Hermione nodded for the time being. She could feel his breathing beside her, still watching him with interest. She saw his jet-black hair, that suddenly seemed endlessly fascinating. Many teens could envy him for it, it was a stroke of luck to have such thick hair.

Her eyes wandered over his face, to his strong nose. The nose, which made him so distinctive. She examined his body, which was full of life and energy, which she would never have thought.

He looked clearly different than usual, as he lay beside her and had his eyes half closed. Thoughtful and guilty.

With careful movements, she reached out her hand and put it to his temple. He stared at her as if she were out of this world.

"Miss Granger," he said warningly. "You strain my patience." His heart was pounding so much that she could feel it clearly. Her fingers ran gently through his long hair and she enjoyed a deep breath of the distinctive, masculine scent that rose from his scalp.

"Who are you, Professor Snape," she murmured softly.

He pushed her away, sat up and fumbled for his clothes, but she was still watching him, which did not escape him. "This is not real, Miss Granger," he said as he closed his pants. "Forget all that, forget your morbid fantasies."

She sat up and looked at him injured. "Do you really think that of me?"

"There is not another logical explanation for what you have done with regard to my person."

He turned away from her and walked over to his chair. As soon as he sat in it, he already held the wine glass in his hand and turned it between his fingers.

Hermione slipped disappointed in her sports pants, crawled to the head of the bed, leaning with folded arms against it. "You are cruel," she said deeply affected.

"That may be. I'm not proud of it, but that's life."

"It is so, because you want it to be so."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her an appraising look. "Indeed. It is strange that you of all people say that. Do you think I was going to make this way more intimate acquaintance with the female sex?"

Hermione swallowed. "You should not have played along, Professor."

"Hmmm. If you say so ..."

"Perhaps you mean to say something else?"

"Well, when I think about it, that I've lost my virginity, here with you today, how you would express it, I should probably consider myself lucky, right?" A smirk appeared on his face.

"You are a funny man."

"Probably."

"Are you aware that, no matter whether Gryffindor or Slytherin, almost all guys plunge in this adventure, without even thinking about it enough?"

"There we have the problem," he interjected. "I'm not a teenager. I am a man."

Hermione pressed her lips together. This was bound to happen!

"Strange, I thought, you know," he added.

"It does not matter what you are, as long as I'm married to you."

"That's true. You seem to really have a preference for it, to pass over my person, Miss Granger."

Her jaw dropped open. The way he said Miss Granger made her shudder. "That's not true!"

His eyes bored into her intensely. "Why have you seduced me?" He said, stressing each syllable clearly.

"I had the feeling that it must be so."

His brow slipped up again. "Did you?" He sounded surprised.

"Yes, I have let myself guided solely by my emotions. Granted, it was not romantic and it might have been a little more tender, but other than that it was ... right?" She hesitated. "Or more appropriate."

He stared at her. "Appropriate?"

"Well, I wanted it to happen, what about you?"

"I thought that this question is unnecessary. No! "

"Oh."

"However. I've come to a certain age, to be alone and to be content with my own company."

"You mean you have ..."

"No, Miss Granger. You are an infantile thing! It is not what you think."

"You do not? You have not even experimented with it? I thought all guys do that ..."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course they do that, but that is not up for debate here and now."

"Why not?"

"I am a man who expanded his horizons and not someone who expands his sex life freely."

"But did not you just now felt anything?"

He laughed mockingly. "What do you mean? The extensive foreplay maybe?" Again there was clearly visible a demonic grin on his face.

"Come on, Professor," she said encouragingly, and full of curiosity.

He sighed. "Does it give you satisfaction when I express it?" She stared at him with wide eyes. "Do you think the climax, Miss Granger? I can assure you that you have had success."

"I did not mean that." She was as red as a tomato. "I meant feelings. Feelings that you have never had before. Impulses. Lust. And dare I say - even under these circumstances - that I felt something like sensuality."

"Very flattering," he said, considering. "All that you have felt?"

Hermione nodded.

"Miss Granger," he sighed, as if she were hopelessly lost. "I do not think that we communicate with each other on the same wavelength. These things exist only in a dream. They do not reflect reality."

"How do you know that, if you have never experienced such a thing? You are so prudish and closed like a wallflower."

His brows drew together closely. "I have not heard that. For your own protection."

Hermione sighed. "All right ..."

"Go to bed, Granger," he said encouragingly, "It's late."

"What? You think I could just fall asleep now?"

"What do you do then? Watch me, as I myself get drunk at the end of a very successful day? Please, if it gives you pleasure, then go ahead. You do anyway only what you want."

"I really wish you would not do that, Professor."

"What difference does it make to you?"

"The difference is, that I want to get to know you and not your drunken twin." She looked at him reproachfully.

He shrugged his shoulders unimpressed. "Good night, Granger."


End file.
